Because now that he’d had a moment to really evaluate it all, that wasn’t true. Cethin hadn’t seemed surprised at all. In fact, hehadalmost seemed to expect it. Had let it happen.
And Razik was getting his ass handed to him for it.
Glass met the wall as Razik hurled the crystal tumbler. Ice dropped to the floor while liquid dripped down the flat surface.
Kailia should have aimed higher.
Chapter 11
Cethin
The paste was cool against his thigh as Niara smoothed the pale green mixture onto his skin with a flat stick. It smelled terrible, but she was right. He’d heal far faster with whatever she’d concocted.
“Thank you,” Cethin said quietly as she worked.
She hummed an acknowledgment, but she said nothing else.
His gaze wandered to the now empty bed. Jarek had stopped back by moments ago, letting him know exactly which cell he’d put Kailia in and asking if he needed anything else before he went to help at the battle site. Cethin had sent him off, and he hadn’t heard a word from Razik since he’d left earlier.
“How long will she sleep?” he asked Niara after another few silent minutes.
“Until her soul decides she’s ready to wake,” the Healer answered flatly.
That wasn’t comforting or in any way informative.
Yet another knock on the door had the Witch straightening, her lips pursing as the door creaked open.
“My deepest apologies, Niara,” Tybalt said when he entered the room. “I know this is your space, and I regret having to intrude.”
“We are finished here anyway,” Niara said, setting the small bowl aside and wiping her hands on the folds of her dress. “Take your discussions elsewhere.”
“Of course,” Tybalt said with a small nod of his head. “Cethin?”
He slid to the floor, gingerly placing weight on his leg. Despite knowing he’d heal just fine, Kailia had sunk that blade in nice and deep, then she’d twisted it in even farther.
“Thank you again, Niara,” he said. “I’ll have your blanket returned.”
She waved him off. “No need. I’ll find another. She requires it.”
He didn’t want to think about how she’d shredded through her pants and tunic. How she’d been pressed against Razik’s bare chest. How she’d screamed frantically, the sound still echoing in his mind.
“Ready?” Tybalt asked, placing a hand on Cethin’s shoulder.
He nodded, and a moment later they were outside the king’s personal study. He was the only one who could Travel directly inside his rooms. Even entering through the main doors required his magical signature unless he granted entry from inside.
Placing a palm on the door, a faint trace of black drifted from beneath it, the doors swinging open a second later.
He immediately rounded the large onyx desk, sinking into a plush chair while Tybalt took a seat on the other side.It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Cethin’s, but it was padded and fine enough.
“Are you all right?” Tybalt asked. “Do you need anything?”
“I’ll be fine. There’s a reason I went to Niara,” Cethin answered, resting an elbow on the armrest and steepling a finger along his temple. His other hand was on the desktop, fingers drumming in succession.
“She’s as gifted as her mother was,” Tybalt agreed, settling deeper into his chair. “Despite that, this could have been prevented. You shouldn’t have been at that battle.”
His fingers drummed again. “It does not matter how many times you lecture me, Tybalt. I will continue to choose to fight alongside those who defend this kingdom.”
“I’m not discounting the nobility of that sentiment.”
